fading
by glitter blizzard
Summary: —Lily and Scorpius engage in a dance of emotions.
1. i

A/N: I realise this is confusing. I know. I'm aware this probably won't be very appreciated or you know, reviewed fic, but hey, I feel like publishing it anyway.

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i. Lily

Swish, swish, swish — red hair like roses, like blood, like _fire. _You are falling, floating, twisting. Spider webs on your skin, zigzagging across the pale flesh, bleeding invisible blood, screaming in visible pain. Biting your lips, cutting your skin, you bleed, bleed and bleed. Your wings flutter — loudly, widely, and try to brush away the pain. Dark eyes like dying coals, glinting in the light, but ultimately fading. You're just a ghost, trapped spirit in a physical body, pushing up at those boundaries, sometimes nearly breaking free._  
_

It is dark when you feel alive. The shadows brush against you, curling around your wrists, hiding the scars. It is dark when you see him, and your fading eyes hurt as he shines, shines and shines, like a star fallen to the ground. He sees you, even as you fade into the background of dark material. He smiles and it is bright, and it is sharp and beautiful like diamonds. You wonder if someone has tried to kill for one of his smiles, and darkly you think, that maybe you will.

He does not seem to see or feel the shield of darkness around your body, the one that pushes even your own flesh and blood away. He does not stop until he is in front of you and you feel your skin burning at the close proximity. He is not only bright, he is warm — hot, you think, feeling your skin prickle. Hot and cold collide in a hurricane, and your story spirals wildly, downhill, from there.

_to be continued._

* * *

_To Ana, who said she enjoys obscure work. This is probably as obscure and incomprehensible as I can get, and I hope you enjoy it._

_Love you, girl! _


	2. ii

Welcome to the world of what the fuck am I reading. :D Enjoy:

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ii. Scorpius

Can you hear the music? The death march drones on and on and on as you take a step closer. There it is, that magnetic pull that leaves you breathless. Her hair — red_orange_rust — is a scream of colour in the darkness that surrounds her /and you/. You touch her skin and you can't help but think; cold, _freezing, _dead? The contact is as thrilling as it is unnerving. _  
_

She exhales, and there it is. The smell of corruption: sweet, cold, overwhelming. You are nothing but a pawn in her hands as she wraps the shadows around you and devours your heart and soul. You see it in her eyes — eyes of so many shattered diamonds, diamonds shattered by diamonds, mended with sellotape, perfect and at once imperfect, broken and fixed and existing in every way all at once — and you know, she has taken control.

It is a storm of emotions — of screams and growls like lightning and thunder — and it is a dance of all consuming intensity and passion. It goes on for hours, until it leaves you weak in the knees. The sun shines through the window, disrupting her reign of darkness. You see your reflection in the crystal shine of the window and a pair of glassy eyes stare at you.

(lies, lies, perfect boy, prefect in Slytherin, Scorpius Malfoy, what is a name but an intangible label for a soul?).

* * *

This is again dedicated to the wonderful Ana, who almost made me cry with all the compliments for the last chapter.

I hope you like this one just as much.

I love you, girl!


	3. iii

iii. Lily

The door that opens (is always open) beside you is so much like the thunder to accompany the ceiling's lightning, and from the abyss that forms between the door and the doorframe a sweet, cloying smell billows forth and envelopes you like a duvet, massages your soul with fingers made of cotton wool. It wants to steal your soul and collect it for the soul jar; it wants to find you – but you are lost and uncivilised and no man, woman, child, beast, being, house-elf, centaur, merperson, grindylow, thestral, pygmy puff, Horklump or imprint of departed soul can find and keep you.

"Hey," The girl, the dorm mate, one of the nameless faces that share your living space. "How are you?"

How mundane, how profane, how lame – doth she not realise that your mind is in shatters, that your mind is a myriad collection of shards and fragments that was once a jar, now cracked and broken on the concrete pavement of reality?

It was once a jar. An unwashed jar of crude, bestial thoughts, as only befits a base creature such as you.

"Can't you see I am sad?"

The words you speak mean nothing to you for you are above words, your soul has transcended that gap between mortal driveling speech and reached a new plain of understanding, of being, you can exist within and without yourself.

You are lost. You are. You. Empty space.

* * *

To Ana, again, thank you for being so lovely and smart and up to debating stuff with me all the time!


	4. iv

iv. Scorpius

_you're so fresh to death and sick as cancer_

It is cold.

As you take a breath and exhale, the warmth slice through the frozen air in misty clouds. You turn to the window, you see snow, you see a reflection of pale eyes, you see a figure. You watch as she walks in the midst of drifting snowflakes, like a ghost gliding with difficulty through the clouds. She has got kind of ethereal, unselfconscious beauty that breaks your heart.

_I am done with my graceless heart _

"You came." The voice is merely a wisp, a forgotten sound in the midst of howling wind. You are quite as you approach slowly — never quickly, never suddenly, because if she runs, she'll never come back — and as you stand before her, she reaches deeply into your skin, veins, bones and wraps a stone hand around the center of your being; your heart. She cocks her head to the side and her blood red lips widen into a smile as she leans forward — curious, beautiful, breathless — and then you disappear — and it's just her and feelings you can't, won't and don't wish to explain.

It is eternity.

_and it's hard to dance with the devil on your back_

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The first sentence in italics belongs to Lana Del Rey, the other two belong to Florence and The Machine.

For Ana! Where are you, girl?!


End file.
